tagNovels and NovellasUnconventional Awakening Ch. 14

Unconventional Awakening Ch. 14


"He is coming to Chicago" runs through my mind as an endless loop. I pull my wet sticky pussy juice covered fingers from my for the moment satiated center of my new found womanhood, and run them lazily upward, trembling at the trail of wetness they leave in their wake. My fingers slide upward, between my breasts and up.

Caressing the underside of my chin.


Slowing down now.

Around the curve.


The scent teases my nostrils.

My scent.

A scent that until a few days ago was one that did nothing for my libido.

But now, was a scent that offered a heady aroma. It aroused my olefactory senses. I found the scent to be primal, arousing desire within me. A desire now to let my fingers journey to their destination.

My fingers slowly slide upward.

They graze my lips.

My lips involuntarily part. Thy seem to have a mind of their own. My fingers trace my parted lips, leaving my wetness behind.

My brain tells my fingers to slide into my mouth. To let me taste what is me. My fingers obey, and I see myself being fingerfucked by my very fingers that had been bringing me so much pleasure just a short time ago.

The urge to suck my fingers is overwhelming. I want to suck them clean, just as I would now want to suck my lovers cock clean after he has made love to me. An act of closure. Completing the cycle, or the end of one chapter, with the possibility of quickly beginning another. Making love was going to be totally different from now on. I was open to possibilities heretofore unimagined. Possibilities that only intrigued, no longer seen as something to be distained. Making love was going to be an exploration of the mind. After all, what is my largest sex organ. According to my husband, my brain, if I let it be. And I am ready. Will he be? This was the last question I pondered as sleep overtook me.

I sleep very peaceably and awaken to a new day. The last act before falling asleep rushes back to me as I yawn and bring my hands up to my face. The scent unleashes flashbacks.

I graze my lips with my fingers as my nostrils pick up on the scent. No longer any evidence of earlier activities, my lips none the less part as my fingers slip in. I can still taste the slightly salty sweetness. "Umm, I wonder, might be an interesting way to start my lover's day. I'll have to remember this", as I get up.


It feels good.

I enjoy the sensation of the sheets falling away, as the air greets my body. My nipples are swollen, and my pussy is matted and caked.

A smile crosses my lips as I ponder this new me. I don't feel old. I feel sexy and free.

And I tremble as I remember my husbands last words – Honey, I love you, more than ever, see you, I'm coming to Chicago.

I smile and revel in the day to be.

And then quickly wonder what to tell Paul and Peter.

How will they react.

A feeling of apprehension clothes me.

And I weigh where is our relationship. I realize that I will find that out.

I am startled out of my reflection by the ringing of the phone.

It is Paul! The irony strikes me.

Paul wants to know if breakfast is in order. I say sure, but have to get dressed. We agree that they will knock on my door in about 20 minutes. Just enough time for a quick shower and get ready for today.

No time for any extra thoughts this morning. Thank God.

The knock comes just as I am ready to greet the world.

I open the door and immediately my reverie of just a short time ago rears and I wonder "Just how will my two new friends react to what I have to tell them?".

We greet one another in a greeting that suggests more than just casual acquaintances. The hugs were warmer and lasted longer. The closeness closer.

We walked to the elevator with typical good morning greetings taking place.

We were seated at a small round table, and ordered breakfast immediately. I didn't realize that I was famished until then.

We talked about what we expected for today in our respective courses, and chatted lightly. I felt very secure in the relationship that was unfolding. I sensed that both Paul and Peter were more than friends. We shared a chemistry. We felt comfortable revealing who we were without putting up false fronts. That struck me, and I realized was important to me. How import was to be revealed later.

We continued to chitchat through breakfast, and it wasn't until we had paid the bill, and were ready to move on to our respective classes that I felt the time to be right to say –

"Oh by the way, I called my husband last night. We chatted about things, and he is coming to Chicago."

The looks on their faces suggested terror. What had we discussed? Why was he coming to Chicago? It looked like the world had dropped out from under them.

I couldn't resist in embracing both of them and with a sniffle tell them that it will be okay. They would just have to trust me. I looked at both of them, and saw a hint of a flicker of relief, but they were both stiff. I didn't know what else to do, and said, "We're on for lunch, aren't we?". They both nodded ever so slightly and Paul gave me a quick almost imperceptible squeeze, before he and Peter pulled away and slowly left in the direction of their class.

I stood there a few seconds, immobilized, wondering what was in store later.

Anxiety and trepidation replaced Paul and Peter as my fellow journeymen as I prepared to go my way.

The morning dragged on, seconds passing like minutes, minutes never seemingly making a complete hour.

The course activity a blur. I was there but wasn't. Thank God for the course material handout which covered this morning's activities in full.

Noon! It finally arrives. And with that, the morning is now history.

I slowly venture back to my hotel room. Wondering.

Is he here? Where will he be?

I am standing at my hotel room door before I realize where I am. How did I get here? I must have been on auto pilot.

With shaking fingers I put the card into the slot and see the light flash green.

With a deep breath I open the door.

And I gasp.

He is laying on the bed.

A big smile on his face.

And a dozen red roses in a vase.

"Happy Valentines day honey" he says, after he sees my eyes glimpsing the vase. He stands up and opens his arms, waiting for me to fill them.

I feel the tears begin to well up. Then silently the dam burst, and they cascade down my cheeks.

I fall easily into his arms, and tremble as the torrent continues, leaving twin growing spots on his shirt. He holds me tightly and whispers over and over "Happy Valentines day honey, I love you".

Then I feel his fingers underneath my chin, lifting my chin upward.

His warm breath on my lips causes my lips to part involuntarily.

His tongue slips easily between my lips, leaving them wet, as his tongue dances into my mouth.

His hands slowly roam down my back.

His fingers grasp my buns and then caress them.

I press myself closer, and feel myself trying to grind my pussy against his thigh. My breathing comes harder, deeper, more labored.

I press my tits closer to him. I softly scold myself for wearing a bra now. I want him to sense me close to him, knowing that he knows that he is feeling me. I marvel at the woman who is being embraced by this man. I will no longer be a wife. I will be more. We will be partners.

I slip my tongue into his mouth and savor the warmth there. I enjoy the way our tongues dance together.

I draw him closer into me with my hug, and then slowly slide my hands downward. I grasp his buns and press myself against him harder. I want to feel his hardness pressing against me.

And I feel a growing awareness. I feel his tool. His manhood rising. All terms that until recently didn't hold much stock. But now, I wanted to feel his mounting desire, and let him know what effect he was having on me. I wanted to let this man of my life know that I wanted him in ways that he only had dreamed of before.

We continued to kiss, embrace and explore one another with our hands.

The temperature was rising.



The ringing of the telephone made me realize that plans had been made for lunch. Plans I wasn't certain would materialize based upon the last moments at breakfast. Who was it on the telephone? Was it….

I picked up the phone.

"Hello Carol, is that you?" It was Paul.

Now what.

Here I am oh so very close to my husband at the moment.

And one of the two men who have been a part of the recent metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly.

I let Paul know that it is indeed me, and wondered if they were still interested in having lunch with me.

Paul said that yes they both would very much enjoy having lunch together. I was glad to hear that, and wondered how my husband would feel about joining is, if he was so inclined, and if so, how would Paul and Peter react. Oh the quandary of the moment.

I looked at my husband who had a questioning look on his face, and mouthed that it was Paul. His still puzzled look told me he didn't understand, so I whispered that it was Paul. The twinkle in his eye told me that he both understood and was enjoying the awkwardness of the moment. He enjoyed knowing that he was being a brat!

As I looked into my husbands eyes with hopefully some mischief of my own, I told Paul that I would be down in a few moments.

I hung up the phone and clasped my husband around the neck and asked him what his intentions were?

He replied back questioning me as to how did I think we should handle it.

Would Paul and Peter be uncomfortable if we both showed up at lunch. We both assumed that they would immediately know who this new man in my life here at the hotel was. After some conversation back and forth we decided that the relationships forged so far should be on firm enough ground to take this bump.

Just as we are ready to leave the room, my husband grabs me once again and tells me that he loves me more than ever, and that he has ideas about the upcoming evening. He hand softly grazes my chest, and he looks at me and smiles. He whispers in my ear as his hand cups my left boob, that maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if I shed the undergarment. The twinkle in his eyes seemed to command me to remove my bra and let my breasts enjoy their freedom. Flashbacks of Sunday night came at me with lightening speed, and the tingle in my pussy quickly decided for me the course of action to take.

As I pull my sweater over my head, I suddenly feel his fingers working deftly to unclasp me. As the last clasp was unfastened, the straps seemed to mysteriously shed themselves from my shoulders and my breasts are suddenly unencumbered. The coolness of the air against my now bare tits gave rise to my nipples. The look in my husband's eyes tells me that he not only approves, but is looking forward to lunch and beyond.

He once again grabs me and we embrace, and I feel my now near naked breasts press against him. I shiver slightly knowing that if I hug anyone now, that they too will feel me closer than I am used to feeling to anyone. My brain immediately sends little tremors to my nipples and pussy. "Who is this woman holding this man."

To be continued –

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